


There's Never Any Punch at These Things

by Esen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esen/pseuds/Esen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going stag would have been the worst thing. The Worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So Marchingstuck has this bit about how John and Karkat took each other to a bunch of dances heterosexually. I think it was Marchingstuck. Anyway, I think that's really funny. I wasn't in band in High School though so I'm not even going to try to tie in the marching portion. Consider this Marchingstuckminusmarching.

Halloween: 7th Grade

 

 

“Eat shit.”

“Oh come on.” John leaned his head against the stall door before realizing this was a bathroom and there were no limits as to where poop could end up. He withdrew his head and wiped at his forehead. Then wiped his hand on his  pants. Then wiped his pants on the door.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Karkat’s voice still had the warble that remained from his crying. That or troll puberty wasn’t done with him. John didn’t know if trolls even had puberty and it took a bit of restraint on his part to refrain from asking. This was serious! They were both skipping class for this emotions jam and John had never skipped anything ever.

“I got toilet germs on my head—and then I had to get them off. Now they’re stuck on my pants I guess. Um. Can I have some toilet paper?” Karkat let out a weird noise that John could have mistaken for a laugh if Karkat were the kind of troll who laughed. He wasn’t. In the three years John had known Karkat and been best buds and bros he’d never heard Karkat let loose even the merest chortle. John figured it was a hiccup, which was good news! John always got the hiccups after he finished crying. And listening to Karkat sob outside the door had been sort of a terrifying experience and he was keen to get past it.

“Are you okay now?”

“Eat. Shit.” John tried not to giggle. It was this kind of stuff that he loved Karkat for, relentless angry nonsense that he knew, or sort of knew, wasn’t sincere. It was funny and pretty adorable.

“Okay. Okay. No more. You need, um…” John put a bit of his weight against the door and felt it give a bit. He could almost hear Karkat’s eyes widen.

“Fuck! No! For all—for all you know I’m not fucking decent—DON’T—“ John summoned all his mangrit reserves and pushed…Karkat scrambled to brace his feet against the door.

“Okay dude, I know you’re little…but with that angle your back has to be in the toilet.”

“EAT. SHIT. Do you fucking get what I mean by that, you fuck? Go away! And let me stew in my misery like the single, unlovable, forever alone shitstain that I am! AND I AM NOT SMALL! DO YOU FUCKING GET THAT?”

“Dude people are still around. They can hear you.”

“DON’T. CARE.”

“Kay.”

“Fuck-EGBERT!” John summoned his secret secret mangrit reserves that he kept hidden in the depths of his soul and pushed against the stall door again, and pushed past the shitty broken public middle school lock and Karkat’s shitty sticky sneakers.

“I hate you.”

“Hmm.”

“Tch.” Karkat sat up. John had been right, too short to reach the door any other way to get the necessary leverage, Karkat had lain down on the covered toilet to the bar the door. It was adorable. Karkat was adorable.

“That’s adorable.”

“Eat shit.” John closed the door behind him and pulled Karkat to his feet.

“We’re skipping class, you know.”

“The teacher’s a moron.”

“ ‘Everyone’s a moron’ ”

“Yeah. Especially _you._ ”

“Hmmm.” John moved in to give Karkat a hug and Karkat let himself be held.

“Why are we hugging in a shitty bathroom at school?”

“Because Terezi broke up with you.” John wasn’t tall, but Karkat was a head and a half shorter than him. Karkat pushed his head into John’s shoulder and didn’t squeeze out a few more tears. He didn’t.

“Because Terezi broke up with me.”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“Over the fucking phone.” Karkat was a bit muffled by John’s shirt and shoulder.

“Hmmmmm.”

“Not even a fucking conversation. She texted me!”

“Are you gonna be okay?”  Karkat took a few deep breaths and squeezed his stupidly sharp claws into John’s back.

“I really—I – Fuck…John.”

“Yeah. It’s Friday. We can do a sleepover.”

“Ah.” Karkat looked up at the guy who he might as well call his best friend, the guy who would follow him into a men’s room and only laugh at him a little as he cried, a true bro.

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Karkat put his head back into John’s shoulder and didn’t smile. He didn’t. He did dig his claws in deeper though.

“Shut up.”

“Ow. Okay.” And he actually did.

 

 

“So what are you going to be?” John was elbow deep in a massive bag of Cheddah-Puffz™, which was the store brand equivalent of Cheetoes that John insisted, like the brain dead assface that he was, was better than the original. Karkat loved Cheetoes. Not the crunchy ones though, those were fucking nasty. Puffed, puffy, poof. Full of air, like John’s head. Karkat figured that if he ate John’s head it would have the exact same texture as a puffed Cheetoe.

“Me. I already strike fear into the hearts of all men and troll who come upon me. They quiver so fucking hard in their boots that they can’t even manage to run away, they’re stuck sniveling in fear as I take my time to decide just how to make them cry like the gutless fuckheads they are.”

“Lol.” Karkat felt something twitch in his head when John actually fucking said ‘lol’, like it was an actual word, not even ‘el oh el’, that was way too much stupid all at once. “You’re like two feet tall and about as ferocious as a hummingbird-“

“You wanna see how fucking ferocious—“ There was a cough from the kitchen and Karkat slammed his mouth shut. Mr. Egbert didn’t appreciate his colorful vocabulary, and Karkat wasn’t about to piss off the greatest source of junk food he’d ever seen. He’d seen the cake they were having for dessert, (emblazoned with “Congratulations on Your One-Month Anniversary of Bachelorhood. John Says I Should Be Very Proud of You” in red icing. How can one man have such cake decorating finesse?) and he wasn’t risking that heavenly pastry to swear at John. He could do that anytime, like in an hour or so when he and John would be swimming in blankets and watching movies up in the privacy of John’s bedroom and Mr. Egbert would be far far away, on a date with Lalonde’s mother, the poor man.

John raised an amused eyebrow and scraped the powdered cheese off his fingers with his teeth.

“Anyway, I’m gonna be a pirate. Vriska-“

“BLUH.”

“Shut up. Vriska told me she could lend me some stuff. I guess she has a supply of pirate costumes? I’m going to assume that’s a troll thing and that you go and do piratey stuff too when I’m not around. I am so jealous.”

“Isn’t trick or treating for human wrigglers who shi-defecate hard in their stinky diapers? Aren’t you too old now?” Karkat grabbed the bag of Cheddah-Puffz™ and stuffed a handful in his mouth with as much distaste on his face as he could muster.

            “No way man, you are so wrong it is kind of funny. You can go trick or treating as long as people still give you candy. And all my neighbors love me so I can probably go until I’m twenty or something. I bet your neighbors hate you though; you’ll have to stop as soon as you stop looking like you’re seven. People are more or less mandated to give out stuff to little kids.” Karkat let that slide off him like egg on ice and didn’t once contemplate kicking John in the head. He might be shorter than average, but he was _flexible_.

“Besides, you have to have a costume for the dance. You have to pay to get in if you don’t wear-“

“I’m not going to that. Terezi and I aren’t together anymore.” Karkat felt a bit hurt that John would bring that up so callously, it was a sore subject and John should’ve known that.

“No duh. But you’ve still got to go! Even if you go stag.”

“What the h-heck does ‘stag’ mean?”

“Alone.”

“Why go to a dance alone? Am I going to dance with myself-“ John’s eyes lit up at that. “NO! Do not sing!” Karkat reached over and stuffed more Cheddah-Puffz™ into John’s mouth. He chewed with stupidest grin on his face that Karkat didn’t find infectious in any way at all.

“You have to get back in The Game, man!”

“What game?”

“The Game.” John nodded sagely.

“Isn’t-isn’t that cake supposed to be celebrating my month long bachelorhood? Please don’t ruin this for me John, it is my special day. I don’t want to be in The Game again, its deck, like the universe at large, is stacked against me and I keep rolling doubles. Nothing but doubles. I’m in jail all the time.”

“Mmm-hm. I can be your date if you don’t want to go alone…”

“….What.”

“I mean, no-homo, not that that’s a thing for you, I guess? Um.” John was blushing and suddenly looked like he’d wished he’d kept his mouth shut. It was a good look on him and Karkat wished he’d wear it more often.

“We could just go as friends, as bros, you know? And keep each other company? It’s our first dance Karkat, we can’t not go. That way lies spinsterdom and staying in on Prom Night to play WoW.”

“…What.”

“Just come with me. I won’t make you dress up or dance or anything. I just want to go and see what it’s like. I asked Rose but she’s not even going. She met this girl at some bookstore and now they’re BFFs, I guess? ‘My evening will be monopolized by heavy duty begging for confectionaries across an area that spans four affluent neighborhoods and includes no less than eight old ladies who are well known for giving out king sized Kit-Kats. King sized, John, surely you can understand the allure of the King Sized Kit Kat. Kanaya will be my companion’. Whatever.” John was wearing a half smile that Karkat didn’t quite know how to deal with. The thought of seeing Terezi again, whom he’d been avoiding like the fucking plague for a month, filled him with dread, and it was more or less a certainty that she’d be there. But turning John down wasn’t something he was capable of doing. For all his bluster he’d never once said no to John on anything. And with that weird smile that just oozed good nature and insecurity, he couldn’t bring himself to start then.  Karkat knew quadrants weren’t a thing that humans _got_ , but John looked pretty darn pitiful begging for a piece of Vantas to hang on his arm.

“Fine. I’ll go.” Karkat felt something flop around inside of him with the full smile John broke into.

“Awesome! We won’t stay long anyway. We still have to trick or treat!” It was a huge smile. John had no business smiling that brightly over something so dumb and stupid. Whatever.

“And I was joking, man. I know you really liked, or pitied, Terezi. You don’t have to get back in The Game if you don’t want to.”

“The Game is dumb, John. I’m out of it for good.”

“Don’t lie. Somewhere out there, there’s a lady troll who not only likes short guys, but really dumb movies as well. And you and she are gonna get troll married.”

“You are retarded.” John slung an arm around Karkat shoulder and leaned in.

“ _Oh, when there’s no one else in sight- in the crowded, lonely night- well, I wait so long for my love vibration- and I’m dancing with my self.”_ Karkat didn’t let himself smile a little, just for John to see, and sing along. He didn’t. But if he did, he was off-key, and John let him know it.

 

 

“That was really dumb. And too fucking hot.” Karkat plucked the neon colored feathers John had taped to his sleeves off and threw them at John’s head. He would no longer be his ‘palrrot’. The waiving of the entry fee was too good a deal for Karkat to have passed up, but trick or treating was free and John’s neighborhood was full of rich assholes with nothing better to do than shove candy at every stupid fuck around. And John was the stupidest fuck. The feather had lost momentum after a third of a second of airtime and floated down to Karkat’s feet. John didn’t seem to notice the missiles directed at his head.

“Arrrgh!” That was all John had said since he’d put on his eyepatch. ‘Arrrgh!’. It was really a new level of annoying. ‘Arrrgh!’ all evening. ‘How long do you want to stay?’ ‘Arrrgh!’ ‘Look at this-pretzels and bottled water. Human Pretty in Pink led me to believe there would be punch. I see no punch John. Your cinema has lied to me. Again. Does its bottle of suck have a bottom? No it does not. No. It. Does Not.’ ‘Arrrgh!’ ‘Ohmygod it’s Terezi—FUCKING MOVE!’ ‘Arrrgh!’

“It’s fucking cold out. Where’s your dad?”

“Arrrgh!” But John fished his cell out of his pants-‘What the fuck are you wearing? Those are the stupidest pants I’ve ever seen.’ ‘Pantaloons! Pirates wear pantaloons. I’m a pirate! Arrrgh!’- and checked his messages.

“I left a message twenty minutes ago saying we needed a ride. Maybe he didn’t get it?” John had removed his eyepatch.

“You did tell him we weren’t staying for the whole thing, yes? That it was just going to be a short deal that would be followed by hours of shaking down your neighbors for all the candy they possessed?” Karkat felt a storm brewing in the sea of his heart. His love, his candy… John leveled a stare that would have seemed slightly serious if he weren’t wearing a ridiculous amount of eyeliner.

“You’ll get your fucking candy. I’ll call him again.”

But Mr. Egbert wasn’t to answer. And fifteen minutes in the chill October air was enough to make Karkat sidle up close to John on the curb and stare in increasing annoyance at his shoulder. Neither of them had jackets.

“We could go back inside. The dance still has a few hours to go…”

“I’d have to pay.” Karkat gestured at the mess of neon on the asphalt.

“S’not my fault you molted.”

“I can’t help my nature John. When this evening started I was the Ugly Juvenile Quackbeast. And now I have become a Beautiful Silentpondskimmer. I am beautiful. Feel free to fawn.”

“Well **I** could go back in.”

“Are you really going to leave your date literally out in the cold? I went to this shitfest because you wanted me to! Are you really that much of an asshat, really?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t have fun?”

“Yes. This was the absolutely worst way I could have possibly spent my evening.  I‘m never going to one of these things again. Never fucking ever. They played shitty music and there wasn’t even any punch!” John smiled at that.

“Yeah. I bet the ones in High School will be better. Students actually put them together instead of this PTA bullshit. It was still fun to dress up! And to see everyone else! It was like in elementary school when we’d all wear our stuff for the day and have a little party in the classroom…” John trailed off and pulled his phone out again before sighing with disappointment and stuffing it back in.

“Maybe Lalonde’s mother-“

“She’s probably with my dad. And I don’t have her number. And I already tried Rose. Know anyone else?”

“Not with a car.” John wrapped his arms around Karkat. His shivers were getting worse and they shook Karkat with their force.

“I only live a mile or so from here…we can walk to my hive…I guess.”

“Didn’t you say you would never let me within eyesight of your house? Something about contaminating it with idiocy?” John smiled at him with lips that looked faintly blue in the moonlight.

“You’re going to get sick if we hang out here all night. And-“ Karkat stopped himself before he said it but it was too late.

“And what?” John had pulled them both to their feet and linked their arms. He was really shivering.

“Crrrbdad….” Karkat could not believe how stupid he was. How could he let that out? How? Had he not spent what seemed like every waking moment of the last three years with this moron? Didn’t he know how John reacted to everything at this point?

“What was that bro? Couldn’t quite hear you.” John’s smile was a bit too bright. He’d heard perfectly well.

“Crabdad wants to meet you.”

“You’re going to introduce me to your freaky animal parent. And on the first date. Bold, Vantas, very fucking bold.”

“Yeah. That’s me. Bold.” Karkat steered John in the right direction and started walking. John was slower than usual and the near convulsions didn’t help matters.

“This wasn’t a real date shithead. A real date ends in actual candy. ” It seemed important to make that clear.

“The boldest.”

“The Bold **and** The Beautiful. I am the fucking pondskimmer.”

“Oh my god.” John didn’t stop giggling for a long while.

 

 

“Holy shit, he’s actually a crab!”

“Are you—are you some kind of stupid—fucking—“

There were no words. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Melodrama-Population: Ghey Keds.

Christmas: 7th Grade

 

“Waltz of the Cluckbeasts.”

“The Chicken Dance.”

“They don’t have music. Like. The life of a cluckbeast consists **entirely** of being born, shitting out an egg, and being turned into delicious dinner. There’s simply no time for music making. Where did you morons pull this retarded shit from?”

“I think the song exists to piss off brides on their wedding days. Like, the bride is all to the DJ ‘Don’t you fucking dare play this song or I’ll rip your balls off.’ But the prankster best man is like ‘Buddy I’ll give you $20 if you play it once every hour.’ and the DJ is like ‘K I’m getting paid like $900 an hour but whatever s’not like I give a shit’ and now nobody actually likes it but it keeps being played for irony’s sake. I think?”

“So. Pulled from the sweaty bosom of an overzealous, hormonal matrimonial wench. I might have guessed. Who is the best man in this analogy?”

“What? No one! It’s just like…a shared joke that was never funny…and that’s why it’s funny! And don’t say things like ‘sweaty bosom’ dude. ”

“Fucking. Stupid.” Karkat and John had slipped out of the gym for a few moments and were wandering the queerly empty halls of the school. It was a different place without all noise of the day. The air was hot and had the tinge of excitement that only Christmas break can bring. The bass was humming through the walls; Karkat’s sneakers squeaked on the dirty floor. In a week he’d be back here and the floors would be polished and the idiots he went to school with would be loud and John would be smiling somewhere behind his head, still breathless over all the cool shit he did in Massachusetts over break.

“Come on man. Please don’t be sad.”

“I’m not fucking sad. I’m just not looking forward to a week with nothing to do.” The no one to talk to went unsaid but John heard it anyway. Both their cellphones had been lost a few weeks ago in a terrible accident involving way too many water balloons. “Well. Week and a half.”

They were outside John’s homeroom. This was the first year they weren’t in the same one. Somehow, spending the first half hour of the day with John had been the only thing that made the mornings tolerable-they weren’t anymore.

“I’m not leaving until the day after tomorrow-“

“I know.”

“-so it’s not like…I don’t know. Fuck. This is the first trip I’ve ever been sad about taking.” Karkat didn’t answer, didn’t have anything to say. What was there to say? It was stupid. It was just a week. And a half. It was sort of daunting, actually, to realize that hardly a day of his life had gone by in the past few years that hadn’t been spent with John.

The silence had gotten awkward and it never should have been with John.

“I swear to God if you bring me back some shitty souvenir I’ll hit you with it.”

“Mean.”

“I can already tell. You’re gonna get me a fucking snowglobe. You see yourself in Winter Wonderland regalia, prancing around your hotel’s lobby. And there it fucking is, the Gift Shop. And inside there’s nothing but tacky baubles and post cards. ‘Wish you were here!’ as far as the eye can see. And-“

“I will.” John had sat down on the dusty tile. He pulled Karkat down with him.

“Wish you were there, that is. I’ll get you candy or something. Fuck-that doesn’t matter. Karkat.” He had that half smile on again, the one that twisted Karkat into knots of guilt and pity and adoration.

“I’m not going anywhere. And even when I do, I’m not really.” Karkat wanted to pretend that he wasn’t consumed with mindless jealousy whenever he saw John laughing with someone else, that he wasn’t gripped by the fear that John had found someone better and moved on when he smiled at someone that wasn’t Karkat, that he wasn’t so absolutely terrified of being left alone again, that with every barb and insult he threw John’s way he didn’t silently add pleading apologies that he didn’t mean it he didn’t mean it he didn’t mean it. But a lie that big tastes too sweet going down; it solves too many problems without any messes.

But Karkat couldn’t bring himself to vocalize all that either. So he just shut his mouth and nodded. And he hoped everything he felt for John, all the gratitude, the heaps and heaps, could be conveyed in that nod. But he knew it couldn’t be.

“I left something in my locker today.” John stood up and walked a short distance down the hall. Karkat watched from the floor as he pulled a wrapped package out from under a mess of papers and crap.

“You told me not to get you anything asshole!” Karkat stood up in a flurry of guilt and stupid unnecessary embarrassment.

“Shhh. I know. But this is for me as much as you.”

“But-this is such a fucking dick move! I always look like the bad guy-every fucking time and-“

“Stop bitching about how you didn’t have to spend money and open it, fuckass.

“Ugh.” Karkat peeled the paper off to reveal a white box-the kind clothes came in.

“I swear to God if you got me a Weasley sweater I will strangle you with it.” It was too heavy for clothing though. He opened the box to find a headset microphone and a webcam.

John got a bit quiet.

“I got the same stuff for me. I’m bringing my laptop…so this way we can still see each other everyday and talk and stuff… “

“…We could’ve chatted with Pesterchum…” But Karkat hadn’t wanted that, text was nothing compared to a real face and a real voice and an actual conversation. And John…

“It wouldn’t have been the same. Besides, you make so many great expressions, I wouldn’t want to miss them!” John’s smile got even more painful to look at so Karkat stopped and jammed his eyes shut before they started drenching the rest of him. “Merry Christmas…or whatever your equivalent troll thing is called.”

“John. F-fuck…” Karkat hated that stupid warble in his voice, the one that always came out the second he had to show emotion, and what a stupid thing to get emotional over, a fucking mic and cam. He swallowed and rubbed at his stupid ugly face. “Thanks.”

“You know, this is the second dance we’ve gone to and we’ve yet to actually dance…”

“You dance all the time.” Karkat was grateful for the shift in tone and subject, even if it wasn’t the most subtle way of going forward.

“Not with someone and not like, for real, you know? Shakin’ mah thang is almost always done ironically. Unless you’re like, a breathing stereotype.”

“Strider has polluted your conception of irony; it’s a complex literary concept. Not the sort of thing that can be attached to…uh…notably ethnic dancing performed by those of the paler persuasion.” John gave him an annoyed look, like Karkat had no business getting words in the way of his dancing.

“What the shit are you talking about? Are you trying to be racist or something? I’m asking you to dance, moron.” They were still two floors above the gym so the music from below was little more than rhythmic pounding without any melody. John’s teeth were spearing his lip and a blush had taken root, but he pushed closer to Karkat and set his arms into something like hug position.

“Um.” Karkat mimicked him after a few moments of hesitation.

“I’ve never actually done any real dancing, like slow and stuff.” John’s voice sounded like it was inside Karkat’s head.

“You already said that. And you know, you’d probably get a better education if we could hear what we were moving to. I’m not a total douche, if you wanted to dance we could’ve done it downstairs.”

“Eheh.” And a thousand scenes from human television and cinema swept across Karkat’s mind and he suddenly knew exactly why John couldn’t have asked him to dance downstairs.

“Fuck…” Karkat managed to find where John’s head was in relation to his own and push their foreheads together. “We’re gonna do this right proper.”

“Staring each other down isn’t ‘right proper’, Karkat.” But John didn’t look away. They weren’t so much dancing as they were swaying, but it was close enough.  And Karkat didn’t feel any surprise when John pressed the rest of his face, well, the important bits, to the important bits of his own face, just a long mental sigh of ‘Ahhhh…’

It didn’t last nearly long enough, John jerked his face away but didn’t break his hold. He looked like he was feeling some nauseating fusion of joy, embarrassment and horror. Karkat figured he looked much the same.

“…Karkat…”

He looked like he’d like to pretend that what had just happened had never happened.

“John.”

And that made the tiny bit of joy in that emotional cocktail drain away.


	3. Chapter 3

### Welcome!!!: 9th Grade

Nerves, Karkat had come to realize, were useless little things. Not the touchy feely nerves in his fingers; those were alright—it was the ones twisting about in his gut, tying into ridiculous shapes and knots that were more about being as convoluted as possible than being useful and holding shit together—like sails on a ship…or whatever it was knots were useful for. Tying shoes, he guessed. Karkat wore slip-ons. And the principal cause of his discomfort was, as ever, John. And he wasn’t even around to see the agony he caused.

It was the last Friday of summer vacation and John had spent the last month with his mother in Wyoming. Yet another reason to scorn the silly familial structure of human society: keeping him away from John just so some woman could have time with him instead. Being his bro-est friend, as John would probably put it if given the chance, surely outweighed giving birth to the guy. Surely. What’s birth anyway? ‘S like taking a shit but pushing from the front. Karkat’s didn’t get what the big fucking deal was.

But tonight was the night, and John was coming home just in time to be welcomed (!!!) to high school by a dance put on by the student council, and, as ever, John had reserved Karkat for his man-date. Reserved for a man-date over the blurry feed of a webcam that Karkat still thought was probably the greatest thing he’d ever received, not that he’d ever express that to John again, and also reserved for a final weekend sleepover before the horrors of public education came upon them. And Karkat was nervous because it was John and for what seemed like forever John had made his insides act like they wanted to be outsides.

It used to be all right, back in the old days when he didn’t fantasize about coating every inch of John with his DNA. But those days were gone gone gone. And it was sort of unable to be ignored—that the sight of John wearing shorts for the first time in spring provided him with masturbatory material for the next few months because there were fine dark hairs spreading all down his calves and oh my god humans get furry as they get older fuck, and that the tang of sweat mixed with Speed Stick that surrounded John on the hotter days of June and July was something Karkat breathed more easily than the drenching humid air trapped between the trees on a suburban summer day. It was one thing to feel like yes okay I would like to make out with him a little and hold hands maybe, but quite another to feel a pressing urge to _fuck him in every way he could be fucked and in turn be fucked quite the same_. He wanted to cut John open just so he could crawl inside and feel the heat and the pressure and the joy of having nothing but John John John.

And John…he didn’t want that. Or he wasn’t Okay with that. Or he couldn’t be Okay with that. Or he didn’t want to be Okay with that. So Karkat sat on his hands and tried to be coy and settled for whatever contact John was Okay with: bumping shoulders in the hallway, doing the cliché hand in popcorn deal, and sleeping all over one another with a spread of blankets and sheets on the floor of John’s room with the hum of three fans droning into the long sleepy hours of the night.

Human romcoms often said that absence made the heart grow fonder and Karkat was willing to concede them that point. And that was about it.

The sound of an approaching car bid Karkat to stand; John’s neighborhood was secluded and on a dead-end street with the very dead end being John’s house, so car travel was uncommon unless the traveler was planning on visiting. And Karkat was pretty much the only visitor John had with any degree of frequency, of which he was slightly proud, take that spiderbitch how often do you get to spend hours on end with the ridiculous moron just talking shit and eating homemade pastries? Once? Twice, maybe, in a year? Karkat does that pretty much every fucking day thank you. And really the only time he can remember Vriska being in John’s house for any length of time was that one time they’d worked on a poster project for science class and Karkat had been in their group anyway so it hardly counted. Fucking Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing shit going down quick someone save the turtle before miniegbert eats it. Poor Jimmy Fargo, he'd wanted Peter's dick _so bad_.

Karkat shook his head to clear the memories of Judy Bloom and her ridiculousness and stood up from the sidewalk. He briefly wondered if John would think it was weird that he’d been waiting in front of his house like some embarrassingly loyal woofbeast before banishing the thought as a rental car pulled up with a stupid dumb shock of black hair visible through the windows with bright grinning face just below it. Karkat hoped he wasn’t smiling too openly, but it had been an entire month and was willing to forgive himself for such a transgression against his established nature.

John didn’t leap out of the car and come running and Karkat didn’t break down into bitch tears, but it was still good. John got out like a sane person and Karkat walked over biting his lip and still smiling way too much.

“Hey.” Up close Karkat could sort of discern that John had sort of become unspeakably pretty over the summer with subtle angles lining his face and a total absence of the human wriggler fat that had been clinging to it. But maybe that was just the absence talking again, at the moment, he just wanted to revel in the reunion.

“Hi Karkat.” And then John hugged him. A real proper hug that was tight and shit. And Karkat hugged back, a desperate hug with his arms wrapped around and his face buried in John’s chest because not only was he prettier he was also taller and that’s so unnecessary because he was already tall and fuck he smelled so good and fuck Karkat had missed him.

“I missed you, fuckass.” Karkat figured John was going to quote Human Han Solo and be all ‘I know’ and giggle, because that’s what he’d done the last three times Karkat had been up in his arms and all sentimental. But he just hugged tighter and dropped what could have been a kiss on top of Karkat’s head if Karkat didn’t know that John wouldn’t have been Okay with that, especially with his mother watching curiously as she pulled John’s luggage from the back.

“Yeah. Me too.” Karkat drew in a shaky breath and pulled John closer, even though one would be pressed to find space between them.

 

They’d decided to walk to the high school, John hadn’t arrived so late that they were pressed for time and he wanted to stretch his legs after the long flight and drive. And Karkat wanted to be able to stare at John's ass for as long as there was daylight and a reason to be behind him.

John didn’t waste time, he hauled his bags up to his room while Karkat stood in Mr. Egbert’s kitchen and tried not to be awkward about being alone with the former couple and their cool, icy stares. He failed and mumbled something indecipherable when the former Mrs. Egbert asked about his and John’s relationship. ‘Does John have many troll friends?’ ‘mumblemumbleafew’ ‘And are you his best friend?’ ‘uhhmyeahithinkso’ ‘John doesn’t talk too much about his social life—always movie this and movie that, I think he spent more time at the cinema than with me this past month ahahaha!’ ‘uhhuh’ ‘I suppose you and he watch a lot movies together.’ ‘uhhuh’. It was nothing short of salvation when John bounded into the room wearing the same shorts and t-shirt he went up with, gave his mother a kiss and his father a hug and pulled Karkat by the arm out the back door.

“Oh man, was she giving you the third degree?”

“What?”

“She’s so nosy! All month it was nothing but ‘ooh john tell me about your girlfriend. you’re so handsome i bet you’ve got the ladies hanging on your every word back home right. i think that girl at the supermarket was checking you out john i think i know her mother would you like me to introduce you two. really well alright if you change you mind i think her name is shelia.’ Dad never fusses like that about Rose when she comes around…”

“Shelia Tubman…?” Karkat was sort of half listening—he was intensely focused on John’s legs, while trying to appear not so, and the alluring spread of hair that seemed thicker than a month previous. Better than the ass. Karkat was suddenly struck by the thought of hairy human asses. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. He was, however, pretty sure he’d developed a fetish. At least it wasn’t feet—no wait, John in sandals, the hairs beneath the toe knuckle curling over the band just slightly…

“What?”

“Nothing. I thought—nevermind.” John shook his head and smiled.

“Oh man, I really missed you. Next year you’ve gotta come with. Mom’s got the space and I bet you’d love Wyoming.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Nah. I told you Mom rented a room at a ski lodge for two weeks and it was pretty much the best thing ever, right? There’s no snow except what’s really high up, but the place was so pretty Karkat. You’d really like it. You’re always bitching about how loud everything is, right? You won’t believe how quiet it is up on a mountain.”

“Animals and shit…”

“Not even! A lot of the time I was with Mom or like a hiking group, but I was alone a lot too. It’s pretty much the best thing. When I get older and have money and shit I’m gonna build a cabin up in the mountains and just live there. Fuck cities and towns, imma be a mountain man.”

“I’ve seen you with Lego-“

“Anyway, Mom says we can go back next summer if I want—and I totally do—and you’re coming with us, alright?” John turned an expectant look towards Karkat that looked like it was pretty much daring him to refuse.

“Fine, John. I’ll let you pay for my vacation come next summer if you really want to.” John snorted at that and leaned into Karkat, nearly pushing them both off balance and into the street. The road was a bit busier as they made their way into town proper and John was looking around like he wanted to see everything there was to see of summer before the night set in, which he very well could do—theirs wasn’t a large town.

“Ice cream.” John’s eyes had alighted upon the town’s single, small parlor. “You—you have to buy me ice cream.”

“I’m buying your ticket!”

“The school shouldn’t be charging for this anyway.” John shrugged and pulled Karkat across the street.

“That doesn’t address the fact that I’m already paying for your fucking night out—I never agreed to foot the bill for your—your afternoon of fancy!”

“Afternoon of fancy?” He raised his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe something so stupid had come out of Karkat’s mouth. Karkat could hardly believe it himself. “How expensive is it gonna be, man? Three bucks? Well, probably seven since there’s no way you can resist getting something for yourself. Sweet tooth!” John had swung open the _perfectly_ charming bell-festooned door and slipped inside before Karkat had a chance to argue further. And he probably wouldn’t have done so very vigorously anyway; he was always, _always_ keen for peppermint stick ice cream. Always. So he followed John thorough the door as he pulled two wrinkled five bills from his pocket. John was talking animatedly to a blonde girl behind the counter and—oh that’s right Lalonde worked here. John didn’t care about ice cream at all; it was little more than a ploy to see the knit mistress.

“No, I’m not going. Not only do I have work, as you might be able to see, but Kanaya and I have plans to celebrate the close of summer.”

“Awww, Rose. We should totally hang out before school gets to be too much though…Kanaya could come, I’m pretty sure Karkat likes her…” The troll in question suddenly appeared from a back room like she’d been waiting to be mentioned and stood tall beside Rose, inclining her head towards John and Karkat. Kanaya was alright. But when she and Lalonde were together—

“Oh my, customers. First we’ve had all afternoon. You’d think on a such a fine day more people would stop by.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the aura of insane fastidiousness you give off, Kanaya.” Kanaya glanced coolly at Karkat and pointed ever so slightly at the door. Karkat got the message and shut his mouth. Now that John had brought it up he really did want some ice cream. Kanaya looked down at Rose and gave a look like she’d only just noticed her. “Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn’t notice you. Working hard, dear?”

“Oh, quite. John, you remember Kanaya, yes?”

“Uhhh…” John and Karkat suddenly got the impression that they'd walked in on something.

“Oh, no? Well, I can’t say I blame you. So plain—no sense of how to dress to impress—one can’t expect to linger in the mind of a teenage boy with such a, ah,” Rose threw a glance to the side and up. “lackluster appearance.” Kanaya flattened out a nonexistent wrinkle in her _perfectly_ charming apron and sniffed faintly.

“I don’t imagine you’d have any pointers for rectifying my lack of sense?” Kanaya moved directly behind Rose and gave her an exaggerated once-over as she handed Karkat a large cup of peppermint stick he hadn’t even ordered. _That_ was why Kanaya was alright. No fucking need to tell her anything; she already knew and was halfway through taking care of it. “No. I don’t imagine you do.” She turned to John. “And for you?”

“Uhhhm. A strawberry shake. Med-um no, large. And of course I remember you!” Kanaya smiled daintily and reached for a cup.

“That’s sweet of you, John. It’s true though, I don’t have Rose’s talent for memorability: so odd, so, ah,” Kanaya reached over and tugged at the skull-adorned headband sitting pretty on Rose’s head. “outlandish. And as for the teenage boys…well, how short must one’s shorts be this late in the season?” Rose and Kanaya both turned to one another and gave what were possibly the iciest smiles John and Karkat had ever seen.

“Shrew.” Rose took Karkat’s wrinkled notes (unfolding and flattening them with a barely disguised look of distaste really Karkat how many times have you washed these oh well at least I have a degree of assurance that you do laundry regularly the smell must be your feet.) and passed over John’s shake.

“Slut.” Kanaya passed John a straw and gestured at the small table in the corner, inviting them to sit.

Karkat snorted into his spoon and had half a mind to peek over the counter and see just how short Rose’s shorts were, just for laughs. John choked on his tongue a bit and looked at Kanaya with wide, insulted eyes. Rose paused and turned like she couldn’t quite believe her ears and then burst into a small flurry of giggles, her light, airy squeaks muffled somewhat by a hand. Kanaya allowed herself a genuine smile and tapped Rose on the forehead. Karkat rolled his eyes and put his foot down.

“Fucking freaks…we’ll eat outside thanks!” Karkat marched out the door with John following behind with a “bye guys?”

Karkat eyed his ice cream and felt a nearly overwhelming urge to shove his face into the cup—but he restrained himself and pulled a chair out from the wobbly table the parlor had set up by the roadside and told John to sit. He sat opposite and dug into his criminally delicious minty spectacularness with a spoon like a civilized, if less efficient, person.

“So…what was that about?” Karkat noted that John was working very very hard to suck bright pink goodness through the straw. Karkat had learned a while back that humans did wonderful things with their mouths thanks to a few choice videos, it was disappointingly difficult to find exclusively male productions but he’d gotten his hands on six, detailing the carnal relations of troll/human and human/troll and one where twin humans/one troll. John looked good like that, gulping down that red shit…eheheheh.

“What?” Karkat shifted a bit. Fuck he was horny.

“Rose and Kanaya. What’s their deal?” Gulp. Suck. Gulp. Eheheheh.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s their deal’?” Karkat gestured at the parlor with his spoon—a bit of pink flung off and splattered on the sidewalk. “ It’s fucking obvious.”

“It…is?” Suuuuuuuuck.

“Yeah dumbass. That’s their freaky snarky horseshit flirting deal-“ John’s eyes about exploded out of his skull and he started in on a coughing fit as the ice cream he’d been halfway through swallowing suddenly found itself free to fly. Karkat idly noted that this was the probable end of the scenario he’d been playing out in his head: John spewing nasty red shit everywhere in a sudden burst out of his mouth. Karkat wasn’t too upset with the turn of events. John still looked good dripping like that.

John got himself under control and leaned in close and dropped his voice like he was afraid Rose and Kanaya would hear him gossiping. A _perfectly_ elegant peal of laughter broke from inside the building and John started to blush faintly. More red. All over his face. Wonderful.

“They’re, like, together?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know! It’s not like that’s the kind of shit other people are okay with being advertised.” Karkat suddenly realized where this conversation was going to go which was pretty stupid of him because where else was it going to go and oh he really didn’t want to deal with this shit now. Or ever, if the universe would be kind enough to do him that solid. Lolno, says the universe. Fuck, says the Karkat. “Although they were being pretty fucking blatant. Maryam’s got some fucked up idea of blackrom if she thinks the person being wooed is supposed to burst into fucking giggles. If that was even supposed to be blackrom. ”

“Um. Oh.” Karkat figured that the conversation would die here because if there was one thing John knew about it was that interspecies makeouts were not a thing that should happen. Not that the two of them had ever managed to have an adult conversation about…it. The thing that they were. The thing that Karkat was pretty sure John was. The thing that Karkat was pretty he, himself, was as well. But, you know, things like that were fluid, or so some of the stuff he’d read said.

But god did he want to kiss John again. And again. And again.

“Do you think…like…Ms. Lalonde knows?”

“I doubt it. It’s a small town John, and even though I spent the entirety of the summer inside pinning for your sorry ass I’d have heard if one of the nasty icky bug people had ensnared an innocent young girl in a beetleweb of sex and lesbionics.“ John giggled at that and Karkat was glad to hear it. There was a part of him that thought maybe the conversation could turn to them and their own weird snarky horseshit flirting deal—but John just went back to his shake (suckgulpsuckgulpsuckgulp) and Karkat went back to his ice cream. Every few minutes John’s eyes would flick back to the parlor, perhaps wondering what Rose and Kanaya were occupying themselves with in the warm doldrums of a quiet afternoon without any prying eyes or crushing sense of shame.

Every few seconds Karkat’s eyes would flick to some part of John, an arm, an eye, the spread of his fingers around his cup, the shape of his mouth when he let out a groan.

“Brainfreeze, argh!”

“Shithead.” Words were hard sometimes, when it came to John especially. But Karkat thought enraptured might come close to what he felt when John opened his pretty pretty oh fuck so pretty blue eyes and gave him an honest to god take-your-breath-away smile.

“We should get to the school soon.”

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh hey! They’ve got soda and shit!” John eyed the longish table at the back of the gymnasium and pulled Karkat through the crowds to some chairs near it. It was already way too crowded and noisy and hot and Karkat felt a pleasant blend of annoyance and claustrophobia pool up in his stomach.

“Still no fucking punch.”

“What is punch anyway? Ginger ale and cranberry juice? Make your own.” John handed him room temperature cans of Canada Dry and Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper.

“Prunes, cockhead! The secret ingredient in the Good Doctor’s Elixir is prune, not cranberry. Christonacracker, how can I make punch with prunes? Makes no fucking sense.” Karkat pulled an irritated face he knew John liked and was rewarded with a few laughs.

“Is it really?”

“Twenty three fucking flavors and they’re all prune.” John laughed again and picked up a bottle of water.  
“Pansy.” Karkat reached to the back of the table and grabbed a red Solo cup and cracked the Ginger Ale and Dr Pepper open.

“Oh man are you really gonna drink that? I mean, I doubt it’ll taste bad but it sure s’not gonna be good…” John leaned over Karkat’s shoulder and watched the swirl of amber and reddish-black slosh and fizz. It smelled predominantly of ginger; nary a prune to be sniffed, though to be fair, John had no clue what a prune might smell like. They were plums, right? Like, raisin plums?

“Most entertaining thing I’ve seen since we got here.” Karkat took a shallow sip before shrugging and taking a larger one.

“So nasty Karkat.”

“What? You’ve never played with the soda fountains at the Human Burger King?”

“Are you implying that there's—no. No. There is no fucking Troll Burger King you lying asshat! Don’t even try.”

“You haven’t enjoyed a meat patty until you’ve had one of Troll Burger King’s Grub Whoppers.”

“I’ll give you a meat patty. No. That is bullshit and you are bullshit.” John gave a mocking smirk and Karkat just wanted to _shove his tongue in_. “And no, I like to taste Coke when I’m drinking Coke and Sprite when I’m drinking Sprite, not some incestuous inbreeding of sodas brought about by their nubby-horned god for his barbaric amusement.”

“Go fellate yourself Johnny.” Karkat took a long swig and eyed John over the rim of the cup. John was struggling to hold in a genuine smile and Karkat felt a similar tugging at his lips but persevered and chugged down the Pepper-Ale. Ew. It really was sort of nasty.

John pulled a few chairs over so they could sit and snack and watch their classmates make fools of themselves on the dance floor. Karkat liked that part the best. Not that it was in much competition for the title; he hated everything else. But John seemed content to just hang and watch for a while. Karkat was also content to sit and pretend to watch, using the lull in conversation to imagine John naked on the floor, hair in all sorts of interesting places, and himself licking and biting and touching all that doubtlessly tanned skin. He was really fucking horny.

“This is fucking boring. And it stinks like sweat.”

“Terezi’s dancing with Dave…”

“Huh? Oh. Well...good for fucking her. Is he doing the Robot? He is. I don’t believe it. God-awful irony.” Karkat tried and failed to resist the urge to do air quotes around irony. He was now pretty much the stupidest tool ever.

“I think it’s called ‘popping and locking’, the Robot is hella old, not even Dave…is there a Troll Robot?” John was gnawing at his lip and watching the two with a weird intensity.

“No. Only humanity could manage to come up with something so taint-chafingly dreadful as the Robot. Literally, I would chafe my taint trying to do that shit.”

“Don’t talk about your taint in public, bro…” Karkat followed his gaze and watched as Terezi did some weird floppy prances around the stiffly moving but still nauseatingly graceful Strider and then sidled up to his front, all teeth and smiles, and pressed a short hard kiss to his mouth. They didn’t seem aware of the looks they were getting. Karkat didn’t have it in him to use the word with the proper emphasis, but had Kanaya been present she surely would’ve called it _scandalous_ , italics and all. And then maybe Karkat would’ve pointed out the hypocrisy in her calling it so. He was good at that, pointing out the fucking obvious.

“Holy shit. She just fucking—no sense of decorum. I’m legitimately fucking astonished she managed to control her tongue though.” John was still looking intensely at the pair, along with every other pair of eyes on the dance floor and several of those belonging to the chaperones. One of them, an older looking lady, was wading into the crowd towards the smirking duo. That shit didn’t fly. Not that there were rules about that sort of deal, but. But. But.

“Oh, wow. I guess they’re a thing? Dave never mentioned anything…but yeah, you’re right, you don’t really... Although Dave’d probably give me a play-by-play of whatever they’ve done if I asked…” Karkat made a face but John ignored him. “They look happy. Well, Terezi does. Dave looks, um, nonplussed…? What’s up with you two anyway, are you like…?” John sounded strange.

“We’re fine. Friendly, I guess. I’ll pass on saying hello if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Yeah. But they just look really…umm.” John suddenly looked away from the dancing pair (they were now waltzing to some dubstep shit, studiously ignoring the chaperone’s attempts to pull them apart) and seemed like he was in the grip of a jumpy, nervous energy. “Hey. Come with me, yeah? It’s too hot in here.” He stood up and motioned his head towards a back door

 

Karkat figured in month or so he’d be familiar enough with these halls, but at the moment they were dark and strange and empty save his and John’s footfalls. John had tried a few classroom doors but they all seemed to be locked. He was moving quickly, still possessed of the same nervous energy. Karkat figured something was up but he bit his tongue for the time being. Then he remembered how John had been staring holes through Strider and Terezi and bit harder.

“God fucking—why are they all locked? Seriously what do they think they’re protecting? Who is gonna break in and—and what, steal tables?” John sounded actually annoyed as he jostled another door handle, the dull clack of the lock sitting firm echoed down the long empty corridors.

“What are you even looking for?” Karkat leaned against a row of lockers and fiddled with a handle. Damn—he could fit in one of these…he _and_ John could fit in one of these. He and John could fuck in one of these. That…he would have to return that idea later.

“I want—I want an empty room.” John looked over at Karkat with wild eyes and tried the next door. Karkat watched from the opposite side of the hall. “Fuck!” He turned back to Karkat who took the time to notice that a flush had crept back onto John’s face, barely visible in the dying daylight, and probably not from the heat below. The sun still had a ways to go before setting; they hadn’t been at the dance for long, it seemed.

“Okay seriously what is your issue you’re acting like—“ And then John had crossed the span of the hallway so he was standing right in front of Karkat and looking down and looking all sorts of serious and determined and then he was kind of eating Karkat’s face.

Karkat made some surprised noises into John’s mouth and tried to speak, mostly variations on the question of ‘what the fuck’ but suddenly there was a tongue in the way and it wasn’t his! And then words weren’t really a thing he was concerned with. It was messy and not nearly as smooth as the kisses in all his movies, but John made up for it with his _enthusiasm_ , which was rather intense and surprising. There was a lot of slobber though.

A whisper of conversation came from somewhere and John all but leapt away from him with a hand automatically coming up to wipe at his face. No one was coming though, just the sounds of what was still going on below. John’s eyes alighted on a men’s room and he sort of pulled a face.

“Oh my god that is so…” He pulled Karkat, who was in a sort of horny and shocked stupor, towards the door. “In.”

“Ahh…what’s the matter John can’t piss on your own…?” But it was halfhearted because Karkat’s mind was suddenly filled with the beginnings of ohgod ohgod ohgod ohgod.

“Seriously stop talking please.” John was breathless and sort of wheezy like he’d just had to climb ten flights of stairs or had a makeout session cut short before its time. He let the bathroom door swing shut on its own gravity and winced at the shockingly loud bang it gave as it slammed. He fumbled with the lock and the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place was even louder, but to Karkat it all seemed quiet compared the thunder of his heart because ohgod ohgod ohgod ohgod.

“So.” His mouth was very dry and difficult to work with and John was staring at him with a blend of fear and hunger. Karkat stepped backwards until he felt the wall by the line of sinks press hard against his back. He wiped some of the sweat from his palms on the cool tile and stared back at John. John broke the gaze, now blushing vibrantly, and stuck his head in both of the stalls, checking, Karkat guessed, simply for the sake of his nerves because there was no fucking way there was anyone dropping a load in a men’s room on the second floor of a high school three days before classes resumed.

“Jesus Christ what am I doing? Oh god, thinking with my dick thinking with my dick I am awful. You’d never think with your dick would you Karkat nope nope because you don’t have one because you’re a fucking troll and I’m a…ha ha…into that…god…” Then John was in front of him and looking like a lot of things but mostly miserable and confused and sort of half-assed determined. Karkat reached out and ran a hand down his face and felt John push into his palm.

“Oh man…all fucking summer…I’ve—“

“Yeah…me too…”

“We’re freaks Karkat. We’re not supposed to be like this…” John sounded like he was about to cry. This wasn’t how Karkat had hoped the night would go and Karkat hadn’t even pushed for the night to go like this sure he’d hoped but this was John’s deal and it wasn’t fair for John to be crying when Karkat _hadn’t even done anything_. But John took a long shuddering breath and grabbed Karkat’s hand still cupping his face. It seemed he was trying to steel himself with cotton balls. “More than all summer…I think.” John was closer and shaking and smelled so good and felt so good and he was just so fucking good and he didn’t deserve to feel like this and Karkat didn’t deserve to have him even a little bit.

“Yeah just—fuck them John.” And then his hands were in Karkat’s hair and his tongue was in Karkat’s mouth and there was some sad cross of a sob and gasp from one of them and just a long mental flatline from the other because it was even better than that time the year before. And it was longer and hotter and even though parts of John wanted to stop, he didn’t and that—that was a little terrible actually.

“Fuck—fuck Karkat this is such a bad—ah…mmm! You have no fucking idea,” John was breathing heavy and salty against Karkat’s lips and was he crying or sweating Karkat couldn’t tell. “this is pretty much the only thing I’ve thought about…I can’t—I can’t even look at you without…” He was definitely crying a little but Karkat let himself ignore that.

“John—Johnjohnjohn—ahhng!” John’s face was somewhere along the junction of his neck and shoulder and he was biting like he was trying to mimic what a troll would do and oh god he’d probably watched the same fucking videos, seen the pretty dark haired human sink their teeth into the meat of his partner's neck and heard the animalistic yowl that followed, they’d probably rubbed one out in unwitting unison a thousand miles apart every fucking night to the same fucking revolting xenosexual shit.

“Fuck…fuckit…is that…is that okay?” John was just scrapping his horrible wonderful teeth down his neck and his hands had moved to cup his horns and Karkat felt like he was suddenly trying to breath through water. He slid down the wall a bit until he was in a sort of squatting position and pulled John down with him because standing wasn’t a thing he could do anymore. “I don’t know what I’m doing there’s nothing—hah ahh—there’s nothing that says what I should—“ Karkat found John’s mouth and set his own on it again. They were half sitting half lying on the floor now and John was more or less in Karkat’s lap and his shirt was bunched up around his gut and his tongue was scratching along his fangs and Karkat took the opportunity to slide his hands up. He bit John back, gentle-ish and just sort of whimpered.

“It’s fine it’s fine John. Oh god John—“ They were just lying then, Karkat’s legs stretching towards the door and under the line of sinks and John on top of him and rutting. It felt pretty all right. Karkat raked his claws down John’s back and reveled in the low, long noise John gave. His hands wandered to the alluring curve of John’s ass and squeezed a little. John gave a short sound and rocked his hips in return. The floor was uncomfortable against his back but he didn’t care all that much because John was suddenly sitting on his thighs and pawing at his pants.

“This is such a bad idea…” He was panting and struggling with the button. Lust and sex, or at least the promise of sex, seemed to dull what little fine motor control humans had, Karkat noted. Not that he thought he’d do much better, or that he thought much of anything other than oh god John is taking off my pants fuck that is his hand near my bulge fuck fuck.

“John—what are you—“

“Okay no seriously please—please don’t talk—I’m…I’m gonna lose my nerve and…ahng oh god that really shouldn’t be turning me on.” John had gotten Karkat’s pants off and his bulge was out and writhing against the fabric of his underwear, desperate for contact. “Really, really shouldn’t turn me on…” But John reached down anyway and palmed it through the fabric and Karkat just let out a long satisfied groan.

“John please—oh god don’t fucking…hngnn…”

“Can’t get the…fucking stupid idea out of my head…so. So…uhm.” John had pulled Karkat’s underwear down and let his bulge twine around his hand. “I saw this in a porno and…um…I know you guys don’t do this because, guhh…oh wow…” He seemed mesmerized by the movements and oh god he was leaning down and oh my.

“FUCK! Fuck…ah fuck John! Fuuuuhh—huh…John…” The feel of John’s mouth on his bulge was unbelievable. Karkat tried to get into a better position but gave up and just let his head slam into the floor. John was wet and warm and firm around him where the most he’d ever felt was the gentle, cautious tug and pull of his own hand. He lifted his head a bit to try and see how John looked, but the sight of him with his lips spread and head sliding down, trying to take as much as he could was too much and Karkat let his head slam back again, only able to make pathetic gurgling noises and half baked swears as he brought a hand up to fist wildly in John’s hair.

It seemed to go on for a very long time, Karkat staring up at the ceiling and just trying to breathe in an orderly manner and John making wet, slurping noises from between his hips. Sometimes he’d peek down the length of his torso and just marvel at the sight of John’s head, he couldn’t see his face but maybe John was better off that way, maybe he could pretend he wasn’t—Karkat didn’t even know and didn’t care all that much at the moment.

“Ughmmm…ahh…you need like, um…” John had pulled up from Karkat’s bulge and wiped at his mouth. He was still blushing and looked upset but kept his hand in Karkat’s crotch and let his fingers wind around his bulge again.

“Wha…?”

“In—in the porn I found…haha…it was like, they couldn’t g-get off without…” He took a deep breath. “I—I’m fucking doing this, right? So. So I should do it right…and you need to come.”

“Wha…”

“Your, um” John’s right hand was dancing on Karkat’s thigh, his left still plying over his bulge. His voice lowered to a whisper. “V-vagina…” And then some of those fingers were dancing on the outskirts of nook city and wow Karkat hadn’t expected that but wow yes yes wait what the fuck had he called it?

“Oh motherfukk—johnjohnyes—fuckyesyes” Karkat’s hips shot up, driving, desperate for John’s fingers to be inside or at least a little bit closer. This was getting to be way too much and every sensible, sane portion of his mind was screaming for Karkat to stop before he ruined something, before he and John actually fucked when they were both barely fifteen and John was half crying with shame and guilt and rutting on the floor of a bathroom while a hundred stupid assholes danced mindlessly away beneath them.

John was sitting on Karkat’s thighs again and just looking down into dark between Karkat’s legs. His hands were still toying with his nook and bulge but he’d stopped short of actually pushing inside. Karkat took a breath to steady himself and then pushed up on his elbows. John didn’t react, just traced lines around Karkat’s entrance with a feathery touch and Karkat had to stop himself from grabbing John’s hand and just shoving him inside.

“Hey…” He croaked and sat up proper, John ended up somewhere in his naked lap and somewhere in there Karkat could feel his dick and that was pretty great. John still looked miserable and upset and all the wrong things that Karkat wanted for this.

“This was stupid and I guess really sudden? Um…but I’ve had—I’ve dreamt about you and…this like, every fucking night for years and when I saw you after so fucking long…” He pressed down on Karkat’s nook and all Karkat could do was groan in return. John pressed their faces together but missed a little and ended up sucking on Karkat’s jaw line while he breathed raggedly and sort of nibbled at John’s cheekbone. John slipped one finger inside and Karkat stifled a wail.

“You don’t have—we really fucking shouldn’t—“

“You can’t get off w-without something…in there, right?” John seemed a bit more sure of himself all of a sudden. “And don’t be all, ‘we shouldn’t’ that’s cliché and super dumb. We already fucking have…and I know we shouldn’t.” And it looked like that confidence was fake because the crying eyes were back again but John just pushed another finger inside and Karkat started to shake. “I fucking know and oh…oh god I’m worse than a faggot fuck me fuck me oh god just fuck me.” And John was saying some other things too but they were mumbled and into Karkat’s mouth and his fingers were moving inside now and his other hand came back to fold around his bulge and Karkat just let it happen even as he wanted to scream, insanely perhaps, that it wasn’t supposed to go like this it was supposed to be good and happy and maybe romantic and not with John sobbing into his mouth as he finger fucked him. But Karkat was too fucking stupid and he wanted John too fucking much and now, after so fucking long, he had him.

John was standing him up, not removing either of his hands and sort of swaying with the difficulty of maintaining a balance, Karkat wasn’t even sure how John had managed to get them both up without pulling out, but they were up and John was shuffling him over to one of the sinks.

“It’s not a bucket but…and I’m not going home with—with that all over me.” There was a slight puddle of red on the floor and Karkat’s thighs felt wet. John added a third finger and pushed deeper, Karkat made a series of high noises involving the letter ‘g’ and ground down as much as he could on John’s fingers in response. There wasn’t anything resembling a rhythm, just mindless movement and desire. His pants fell down the rest of the way and his belt clattered on the linoleum. John stood  
behind him and pushed forward a little so most of Karkat’s groin was aimed into the sink.

Remarkably, Karkat managed to open his eyes and catch their reflection in the mirror. Somewhere along the line John had lost his glasses; perhaps they’d fallen, or been pushed aside, but his eyes were wide and unframed and mercifully dry for the time being and they were swimming up and down, drinking in the sight of Karkat so completely undone and perhaps marveling that yes, he had done that and that and more. John caught Karkat staring and held an uneven, heavy gaze as he curled his fingers one more time and breathed shallow as Karkat gave to spasms and let loose a torrent of red into the waiting white, choking on nothing.

 

It took some time but Karkat eventually came back to himself. John had pressed his face into Karkat’s back at some point and just set in on the sobs. Real ones that sort of killed Karkat in ways he’d really hoped he’d never feel. John felt him moving and let go of his chokehold and backed up, still sniffling. Karkat reached down for his underwear and pants and grimaced at the uncomfortable dampness as he pulled them back on. He felt John’s eyes on him and took then, of all times, to feel a creep of embarrassment.

“I’ve never liked any other, um, human.” John’s voice was shaky and quiet and mind-numbingly sad. “always trolls. I mean, mostly you. Always you, but…” Karkat stepped over to John and grabbed his hand, feeling stupidly awful and awkward and why couldn’t this just be easy. “Last year there was that guy who worked at the movies, the one with twin horns, remember? I used to…um…think about the two of you…and him and me and…and, and all three of us, you know, f—f—uhhm... He was really cute, like you only less…oh god…” John looked ready to vomit when he realized what he’d said. “I really am aren’t I…and this summer there was this other troll.” John clenched and unclenched his hand, the same one he’d had buried in Karkat’s nook minutes before, with ungodly pressure, but Karkat dealt with it and just listened.

“His name was Eridan. He’s older than us…I don’t remember, I don’t think he said. Maybe a year. He worked at the café I’d get lunch at and we talked a bit. I think he was lonely. I missed you a lot and he wasn’t like you at all but he still reminded me of you and he was pretty and different, but different like you are…I liked talking to him. He’d come by on his days off just to see me and I asked him to go on a hike with me one time…and I kissed him. A lot. And we fooled around. And I think my Mom caught us at one point and…oh god she did she did there’s no point in bullshitting myself she fucking did and _she knows_ and she probably told my Dad and—” And then John really did throw up, ripping away from Karkat’s hand and lunging for a toilet and Karkat just wanted to die because it shouldn’t be this hard.

It took a while for John to empty his guts. And even when he was empty he just kept heaving. Heaving and sobbing and doing it all so quietly and softly because even then the idea of someone seeing him, and seeing what he and Karkat had so obviously done, was at the forefront of his mind. Karkat wanted to try rubbing circles into John’s back like he’d seen in a few movies but he felt that reminding John that he existed would just send his stomach into a deeper fit.

John’s convulsions stopped after a while and he pulled himself over to the sink Karkat had finished in to rinse out his mouth. But he caught sight of the puddle of red still draining away and just stumbled back. Karkat stood up and turned the faucet on full blast and drenched a handful of paper towels. He handed them to John without a word, without looking at him. His foot slipped in the pool of genetic material he’d leaked onto the floor and he wiped that up with a second bunch of towels, trying not to focus on the juxtaposition of how good his body felt and how shitty his situation was.

“Are you, uh, going to be okay?” Karkat didn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t want this I don’t want to be a fucking—I’d rather be gay than have to deal with—did you see how they were looking at Dave down there? I can’t, I mean…I’m not like him I can’t just ignore what…I just want to be…and I’m not. I’m not normal. I’m a fucking cross-species breeder with a penchant for fucking assholes. Ha. That’s not even a thing for you is it, anal? Oh god fuck…how about it Karkat can your fucking freaky friend fuck you in the ass? Anything to further set him apart from the rest of his fucking species…it’s not even like you’re a girl troll so I could at least be straight. Nope, I’m a faggot and a xenophile on top of it and I just…” John tapered off and Karkat didn’t think he was even talking to anyone in particular, his emotions and fears were just spilling out in the most convenient way now that puking wasn’t an option.

“I can call your dad…do you want me to go…?” Karkat fished his cell phone out of his pocket and started to navigate to his contacts but John all but knocked the phone out his hand.

“No! Don’t go Karkat, please don’t, I know I fucked up and just am pretty much an idiot but please don’t go. I can’t, I mean…” John picked himself off the floor and wiped the remnants of puke from his mouth. “Please please, just…please.” And then they were hugging again, not like they had just a few hours before when John had stepped out of the car all sunshine and smiles and Hi Karkat, because then John had seemed so big and strong and warm, but now. Now he was small and tiny and weak and downright shaking, shaking with something and desperate to be told it was going to be okay.

“Okay okay okay…” Karkat just mumbled it into John’s hair and tried not to hold too tightly because he wanted that too, to be told, “okay okay…” but one of them had to be strong for the moment and John was too busy spiraling out into a puddle of disgust with himself and guilt.

 

They were sitting out in front of the school, watching the last few dregs of the sun slip behind the far off hills. The bass and thunder of the dance could still be heard but they’d both had enough.

“Do—do you still want to sleep over? I mean, I get it if…”

“Fuck John, do you think I’m offended that you blew me?” Karkat tried to swing a weak joke and an even weaker scowl.

“No! I mean, so you liked it…?” This was better, easier. Karkat wondered if there was something about bathrooms that made people cry. Karkat thought about snarking something at John, maybe saying no, he’d had better from a vacuum cleaner, but decided not to. It was a time to be genuine.

“Yeah John, I liked it. A lot.”

“Oh! Good. Yeah…I’d really wanted to do that, um, for a while.” John was blushing down at the ground. “You tasted weird. I mean not bad, but different. Good. Actually.” And then Karkat was blushing too and he felt a fondness the size and weight of a car settle around his shoulders and he just wanted kiss John again.

“So. You, me, and lithpy dumbath popcorn douthe?” John giggled and looked up, still blushing, but smiling at last.

“Shut up. Don’t make fun of me.”

“K. I’ll just keep it in mind: John’d be up for a, uh…” And here Karkat was pretty sure he had a stroke of fucking genius, “ _Ménage à Trolls_.” Karkat managed to keep a straight face and resist the urge to waggle his eyebrows like an ass. He grinned outright, though, when John punched him in the arm all fucking affronted because,

“Seriously, French sex puns? No class. None. And that was awful. No, it was awful. Terrible. Stop looking like you think you’re clever.”

 

Sometime later, after they’d been thoroughly stuffed with pizza and soda and everything else that was godly and Karkat had come to associate with a night at John’s, he had nestled nice and snug in the sleeping bag he kept in John’s room because portable recuperacoons weren’t a thing and John didn’t want a “slimy bug bed/womb thing” in his house anyway. If he twisted it enough he could sort of get a good night’s sleep in tight cocoon of cloth and most of the time he was so exhausted from staying up all night that he slept easily anyway. John was still in his own personal private bathroom that was just for him and no one else, (except for Karkat and the toothbrush he kept on the wall next to John’s) taking his sweet time with a shower. The sound of the water was pretty soothing and Karkat might have been even more tired than usual because he felt himself drifting off, listening to and imagining John under the water.

He was rudely awakened by a sudden burst of cool air and the feel of slightly damp and slightly fuzzy limbs slipping in beside him.

“Hey. Do you mind?” The heavy fondness was back again and Karkat pushed his head into his pillow and mumbled. John settled in close and flush against his back. There really wasn’t enough room for the two of them but that was okay.

“Oh man, it’s like a sauna in here how can you stand this?” Karkat kept quiet, very nearly asleep. “Oh. Asleep. Okay. I guess it’ll be a surprise in the morning. Um.” John wiggled around a bit before settling, pressing firm to Karkat’s backside and bringing his arms up to wrap around loosely. “I was kind of hoping…um…ha ha. I promise not to cry this time…fuck. You really are asleep.” He was just in his underwear, tight bright blue briefs, and Karkat could feel the heat of his skin through his own shirt and sleep pants. He’d have preferred to feel John’s skin on his own, but the closeness was pretty damn good all on its own.

One of John’s legs rubbed its way, quite insistently, in-between Karkat’s and forced the flannel to ride up his shins a bit. Karkat felt the gentle scraping of hair on his calves and, yep, that was pretty wonderful. Before John could settle himself, Karkat twisted in his grip and pressed a sleepy, chaste, and adoring kiss to John’s mouth.

“Mmm…you’re in my bag.”

“Pretty sure my dad bought this for you…gives me a claim to it.” John dick felt pleasantly hot against Karkat’s stomach. Hot and hard.

“No it doesn’t dumbass.”

“Want me to go then?” Karkat pressed forward again and this time there was a bit of tongue. John tasted like mint and lingering pepperoni, which should have been gross but Karkat thought everything was wonderful for the time being. The agony of five, six, seven hours ago seemed a world away and John was big and warm and wonderfully happy again. Some bit of Karkat wondered at the chances of finding himself folded around a crumpled John in a bathroom again some day, but then John’s hands slid to their hips and pulled and tugged at the clothing there until Karkat felt everything. And he decided he’d deal with that later.

“Hnng…”

“So, ah…you gonna answer me?” John rocked his hips forward, slow and gentle. “You want me fuck off to my own bed?” Karkat heard ‘fuck’ and ‘bed’ and gnawed lightly at John’s neck. Teenage boys were young and dumb and full of come. Trolls too.

“Dumb dumb dumb…” Karkat twined his bulge around John’s cock and marveled.

“The dumbest.” John agreed, and grabbed at Karkat’s ass.


End file.
